To Love a Duck
by MaskedShipper
Summary: James tries, once again, to gain Lily's heart. Does his poetry work? [Oneshot]


**A/N: **Just a short and fluffy James x Lily. Can you believe I was allowed to hand this in for an English assignment? Score! Anywho, enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own James or Lily.

* * *

"Do you love me yet?" 

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"No!"

"Oh, okay…" There was a pause, and then: "Now?"

"Guh! Go away! I don't – "

" – love me?"

"Yes! Finally you understand!"

"Aha! So you _do_ love me! I knew it."

The irate redhead stormed through the courtyard, mumbling a few choice profanities under her breath. Unfortunately for her, the thorn in her side decided it wanted to follow. And, naturally, since the thorn followed, the boisterous laughter did as well. If one were to look close enough, they might notice her eyebrow twitching oh-so slightly. The grinning teenager that followed her seemed not to notice the aura of displeasure coming off of her. Instead he emitted his own happy-go-lucky vibes. He ran a hand through his dark, messy excuse for hair and gave her his famous lopsided grin. She ignored him completely, huffing as she tried to get to the school before he could annoy her any more than he already was, which was a rather hard task to accomplish. But if anyone could do it, it was James Potter.

"Leave me alone. I'm serious!"

"Aw, come on! I'm just foolin'! I just want to spend some time with you Lily-Billy…"

"That's _Evans_ to you."

"Stop being such a drag. I have something really important to say!"

"If it has anything to do with loving me, I don't want to hear it."

"No, no! It's real important. Honest!"

The male got down on one knee, and the girl's eyes widened. Nothing good ever came from a dramatic fifteen year old. James cleared his throat before placing his hand on his chest and looking up at his peer. Lily resisted the urge to run at that moment, curiosity getting the better of her. James, upon seeing that she would stay to listen, beamed and took hold of her wrist.

She regretted her decision of not leaving when she had the chance.

"Lillian Evans," he began, his eyes shut, a goofy smile on his face. "From the day we met, I knew that we were meant to be."

"Please don't – "

"Hush! Right then. So where was I? Oh yes: ever since the day we met, I knew I would fall in love with you, and that you, in turn, would fall in love with me."

"Potter, I'm not in the mood for – "

"Quiet! Ahem. Your hair is as bright as the most delicate of sunsets. Your eyes are as green as the freshest of grass. Your cheeks are graced with the luckiest of freckles, tiny dots that make your pale skin stand out and glow. You radiate a feeling so groovy and swell that I can't help but be smitten with you."

James popped a mischievously glinting eye open, proud of his poetic skills, only to see the girl of his desires staring at him with a look that stated louder than words how unimpressed she was.

"You didn't like that? I spent a lot of time thinking it up, I'll have you know."

"Well, I didn't enjoy it one bit."

"Are you sure?"

"Would I lie to you?"

"Perhaps." The smile on his face was unwavering and confident. "I guess I'll need to continue."

"You have more prepared?" she asked incredulously, with a hint of a whine in her voice. James shook his head and she let out a relieved sigh.

"I'll improvise."

Her relief was short lived. She groaned as he cleared his throat for a second time.

"Lillian Evans," he started, when Lily interrupted him with a roll of her emerald orbs.

"You've said that already."

"I can't improvise if you interrupt me, now can I?"

She sighed as he took her other hand with his spare one. The scene might have looked silly to anyone who was watching, but that was probably because it _was_. It was silly and strange and somehow charming… just like James was. Lily's lips twitched upwards at the thought.

"Your robes are so long and black. Black like a beautiful… er… black like my beautiful hair. And your arms are so… wondrously attached to your shoulders…"

"What a poet," she murmured dryly.

"Thanks." James looked so sincere and happy with his work that Lily couldn't bring herself to ask him if he knew what sarcasm meant. There would be other times when she could be rude to him, times when her witty remarks would be called for. Now she just listened to his bizarre poetry as she pretended to be annoyed. "As I was saying, your neck stretches like a swan's, elegant and pretty, but not covered in feathers. No, that would be weird. Not that I wouldn't like you if you had feathers, of course. It wouldn't make a difference. Even if you had a perfectly matching beak, I wouldn't mind. I'd still love you even if you were a swan. Or a duck. Though, perhaps not. I might not have fallen in love with you if you had been a duck instead of a human. And what would my parents think? Hmm. I don't think we'd be able to have children either, what with you laying eggs and all. But, if you got turned _into_ a duck, I'd still love you. The rest of the world could look at me like I've grown another head for all I care! It wouldn't matter! Just you and your white-feathery self."

James blinked, as if just realising he had rambled on and on about Lily and ducks. He looked up at her, grinning sheepishly. The look on her face was a peculiar one: her nose was wrinkled, her eyes round, one eyebrow way up on her forehead. The boy stood and pecked his lips against hers quickly, chastely, completely innocently, and she snapped out of it.

"Did you just kiss me?" she asked, her face a mask of indifference.

James nodded vigorously, his captivatingly bright smile taking half of his angular face.

"Did you just… compare me to a duck?"

The nodding happened again, his hazel eyes containing a pleasant warmth that made her gut wriggle uncomfortably. Something seemed to be climbing her stomach and reaching for her lungs. She blamed the unpleasantness on the other's unrelentingly intense stare.

"Why would you compare me to a duck?"

His smile was just as warm as his gaze, still confident and yet comfortingly soft. It was at odds with the gnawing feeling in her intestines.

"Why _wouldn't_ I compare you to a duck? I think that's the more appropriate question."

For once, Lily didn't mind his laughter so much. She raised her brow again, smiling at his simplicity, at his unusual question.

"So, this 'duck' and 'kiss' thing brings me to the important point in all this."

"Which would be…" he voice trailed off as she cocked her head to the side, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

"Well, it's more of a 'request' than it is a point."

Lily rolled her eyes once more. It was something she was used to doing around this particular person. "Get on with it."

"See, the thing is, I've written poetry for you, so the least you can do is go out on a date with me."

"Excuse me?"

"I'd pay for dinner. And I promise you, I'll never compare you to a duck again."

It was a tempting offer, she mused. After all, it had been rather odd to be compared to a duck. And if he promised never to do it again…

"So? Have we got a deal?"

And maybe she would have agreed even without the 'duck' thing. Maybe his charm and antics had finally wedged a way into her heart. Maybe, just maybe, she finally wanted to give James a chance.

Or maybe she just didn't want to be thought as a duck ever again.

"Fine. One date, Potter. And don't you screw it up!"

James looked ecstatic. He almost looked like he would break into song, which really would have been quite awkward for Lily. Poetry was one thing, but if he were to start dancing and singing about her, she was sure she'd have to send him to the nearest hospital to get his brain checked. He took her hand in one swift motion and began dragging her towards the school, so pleased with himself that the joy seemed to seep through his hand and into hers, causing her to smile a bit as well.

"You know what, Lily-Billy? I really do like you. In fact, I bet I'd even fancy you if you got turned into a bear…"


End file.
